


I Miss the Earth So Much, I Miss My Wife

by GenderqueerSpaceWives



Series: All of Time and Space, and I Run Into My Wife [7]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Mentions of memory loss, Post-Library River Song, Sad times, another one of those stories where 13 is in prison, discussions of trauma I guess?, every time I write a fic I end up asking "is this hurt/comfort?" and IT ALWAYS IS, not compatible with Revolution of the Daleks because most of this was written forever ago, with a happy/hopeful ending!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenderqueerSpaceWives/pseuds/GenderqueerSpaceWives
Summary: Stuck in prison, the Doctor doesn't know how to handle the truth of her past. That's when another truth of her past shows up: her wife. Her wife, who doesn't have any idea she's the Doctor, and who will definitely understand what she's going through. So who can blame her, really, if she lets a few walls down?
Relationships: The Doctor/River Song, Thirteenth Doctor/River Song
Series: All of Time and Space, and I Run Into My Wife [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1267433
Comments: 20
Kudos: 130





	I Miss the Earth So Much, I Miss My Wife

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally share this story! I'm not sure, but I think I started writing this right after the Timeless Children dropped. Which... was a long time ago. And for a lot of that time it's been almost completely done, I just haven't been able to make myself finish it. But today was the day I finally did!
> 
> (Was it because it was a way to procrastinate school work/working on original projects? Maybe, but I'm not complaining.)

Prison wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. Sure it was gloomy and lonesome, but she could’ve been stuck inside a volcano or a hornets nest, both of which sounded even more abhorrent. At least in either of those cases she would’ve had something to occupy her mind with. Even if it was flaming hot lava. In here though, she was all alone, left to do nothing but explore her thoughts and feelings. Why did people ever slow down long enough to think? It was about as fun as stepping on venomous lego.

Her feelings had been building up ever since the Master showed up, alive and as murderous as usual. She couldn’t let go of the horror of once again seeing Gallifrey burnt to the ground. And combined with the anxiety over not yet knowing what it was he’d found out… It had been an interesting few months. Her head hadn’t been able to shut up. Constantly thinking, trying to figure out what could have happened. Now, it would have all the time in the world to think.

Surprisingly, it was quieter than it had been for a long while. Maybe that was for the better. The truth had been revealed, and she didn’t have to spend any more time worrying over hypotheticals.

Except, she _did_.

Because while she might know what it was that had happened, that didn’t mean she actually knew what had been done to her. There were memories she knew existed but couldn’t reach, because they weren’t _hers_. They were someone else’s, someone who had come before her. A scared child, forced to regenerate over and over again, for the sake of other people. Dying over and over again. Crying out for help.

The problem with being a time traveller was that you couldn’t see things linearly. She knew that child was long gone. There was nothing she could do to help it. It had already cried all of its tears. And yet she knew that somewhere—sometime—in the universe, it was crying right now.

She had never been able to ignore a crying child. She hadn’t reflected on it much, assumed it must have had something to do with the lonely times of her childhood, and being a decent person. Or at least trying to be a decent person. But now… She wasn’t so sure anymore.

She would do anything to comfort a crying child. Which posed a problem when the child was someone you had been a very long time ago. Someone you couldn’t even remember enough to comfort from the future.

When the child was you, hunched over in a solitary prison cell, quietly letting tears fall from your eyes.

Though she supposed it wasn’t actually solitary confinement, since the room had two beds. But it was painfully empty of company. Still, the tiny window and the inability to catch a glimpse of any familiar stars was almost worse than not having anyone to talk to, and made her feel more alone than the fact that there wasn’t anybody else there.

☆☆☆

That is to say, there wasn’t anybody else there until a sudden flash of light teleported another person onto one of the beds. The one that wasn’t hers, probably. Not that she had gotten much use of either of them. Hers was still tightly made, only slightly crinkled from when she had first arrived. Despite the darkness of the cell, she avoided looking at the other person, trying her best to dry her tears before they had a chance of seeing them.

“Hello?” they said, and the Doctor’s breath hitched in her throat. “Is there anybody in here?” The familiar voice made the darkness irrelevant, for now the Doctor could clearly picture the other person, even with the lack of light.

“Yes,” she said, and it came out as something between her usual voice and a whisper. She cleared her throat. “Over here.”

“On the floor?” The voice came closer, accompanied by footsteps. “What, the bed wasn’t hard enough for you?” The Doctor swallowed, her throat immediately gone sore. “Mind if I sit down?” Before the Doctor could protest, a body had sat down next to her. “How long are you in for?” The Doctor still avoided looking at her.

“Lifetime.”

“Really?” She sounded impressed. “What did you do?”

“That”—the Doctor said—“is a bit unclear.” To avoid having to explain herself, she turned the question back at the person who had asked it. “What about you? How long are you here for?”

“That is, as you so well put it, a bit unclear.” This made the Doctor turn to face her. Not that it did much. Being the middle of the night, it was so dark she couldn’t even make out the silhouette. But she knew, that mere centimeters away, her wife’s face leaned against the wall, staring out into the darkness.

“You don’t know?”

“You’re one to talk, you don’t even know what you did.”

“I have very good reasons,” the Doctor said.

“Maybe that’s why they put us in the same cell,” she mumbled, more to herself than to the Doctor.

“Huh?”

“We make a fine couple,” she said, and the Doctor’s hearts stopped for a second, before she hit herself in the head. River hadn’t meant couple in that way. _Obviously_. “You don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t know how long I’m here for.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor said. “Maybe that’s why.” Or maybe they just had a twisted sense of humour. Putting her in the same cell as her wife, knowing she wouldn’t be able to let her know who she was.

“What’s your name?” asked River. The Doctor allowed herself a few seconds of thought that could easily be interpreted as a healthy amount of suspicion. In reality, she scrambled to come up with something believable.

“Yaz. What’s yours?”

“River.”

“Beautiful name,” the Doctor said with a pang in her hearts.

“Thank you,” River said. “It does the job. Well Yaz, I hope I don’t offend you, but I think I better turn in for the night. It’s been quite an eventful day.”

“It tends to be when you get imprisoned.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

☆☆☆

River fell asleep not long after having gotten into bed, but her breaths were light, and the Doctor knew she would wake at the first sign of trouble. River Song, a woman who had spent her childhood being experimented on and brain washed. All for the gain of others, and made to forget most of it. The Doctor nearly snorted. Seemed they were more alike than ever.

Brushing away the instinct to lay down next to River, or press a kiss to her head, the Doctor settled with a heartfelt gaze in her general direction. Her thoughts returned to the matter that filled up every single corner of her head. She turned her life inside out, trying to find something in it that could make what she’d learned more believable. But her thoughts would always come back to that lonely child, and each time she felt sadder for it. After a few hours, she was once again letting tears fall. Her head resting on the wall, mind lost in thought.

She didn’t notice when River woke up.

☆☆☆

River didn’t know what had woken her, and threw a confused glance at her surroundings. The darkness inside the cell wasn’t as piercing anymore, and from the early morning light she could make out the silhouette of another bed. Then, a soft whimper escaped from the person hunched over next to that bed, and her eyes travelled to them. It was still too dark to see anything but how they were hugging their knees. Another whimper. They must not have noticed she wasn’t asleep anymore. She wondered, briefly, if she should try to fall back asleep, not wanting to intrude on their personal space. But their sobs were so small and helpless, and she couldn’t help but feel for them.

“Are you crying?” she asked softly. As an answer she only got silence. Not a single sound came from them, but she had held in enough sobs to know when somebody else was.

“No,” the figure said, clearly lying through their teeth. She got up and walked over to them, and once again sat down on the floor. Back against the wall.

“Yes you are.”

“I’m not.” But they must know how their voice betrayed them, for really, that tone wouldn’t convince anyone. They sighed, and River stole a look at their face. Now, sitting right next to them, and in the no longer complete darkness, she could make out how their hair wisped around their head, how their eyes were closed and their face contorted in a grimace.

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“Nobody ever cries for no reason.” She averted her eyes from them, and stared out into the empty cell. “Do you want to talk about it? I know you don’t know me, but we _are_ stuck in here together for the foreseeable future.”

☆☆☆

“It would seem we are,” mumbled the Doctor.

“So, what’s bothering you?”

“I-” The Doctor’s voice shuddered. “I found something out. About myself. About my people.”

“Something not very nice, if your reaction is anything to go by.”

“Yeah.”

“What was it?”

“It’s…” The Doctor sighed. “They’ve been lying to me _all my life_.” She could hear the resentment sneak out behind her words. “Ever since… since forever. They never told me. They knew all this time and _they made me forget_. ”

“They made you forget what?” River placed one of her hands on the Doctor’s shoulder, gently stroking it. It was a welcome warmth in the coldness of everything else. Even if it was a painful reminder of all that she’d lost.

“That’s the most irritating thing, I don’t even know what it was they took away from me,” she groaned. “My childhood I suppose, in a way.”

“I know what that’s like,” River said. “Better than most.”

“You do?” the Doctor said, knowing full well she did.

“I have some experience with forced childhood memory loss. You never quite escape it.”

“But that’s what feels so weird.” The Doctor exhaled with a shudder. “It doesn’t _feel_ like I’m missing anything, because I can’t remember there’s supposed to be anything _to_ remember. Up until… a few months ago really, I had no idea about any of this.”

“It’s always a bit of a shock, to realise you don’t have the slightest clue of what you've been through. The only thing you can do is accept that maybe you will never know, but that doesn’t mean you’re not gonna be able to heal from it.” River squeezed the Doctor’s shoulder, rubbing small circles on it. The Doctor let out a small chuckle.

“I thought I wouldn’t need to heal from it,” she said. “I thought… I thought I must have already done all of that. It was so long ago, it _really_ shouldn’t be something that affects me anymore—”

“Hey.” River pulled the Doctor into a one armed hug. “I don’t think that’s the way to go about thinking of it. You’re allowed to feel hurt. You’re allowed to need time.”

“The more I realise what they did to me… Everything I supposedly went through.” The Doctor, still hugging her knees, took a deep breath. “The more I realise that all I’ve done is forget it. And now someone told me, and I can still feel all the pain I felt, even if I can’t remember it.”

“What was it they put you through?” River asked carefully. “If you feel comfortable talking about it.” With her fam, maybe even with Jack, the Doctor would have avoided answering that question. But this was River. If anyone could understand, it was her wife. And River would never even know it was her. Which made it a hell of a lot easier.

“Oh you know, the usual.” She shrugged. “Scientific research, invasive medical examinations, murder. All the classics, I assume.”

“Murder?”

“Well”—the Doctor scrambled for words—“not murder. Repeated instigated resuscitations.”

“Sounds a lot like murder to me,” River said.

“Yeah”—the Doctor agreed—“to me too.” She sighed. “And I can’t decide if I’m happy I can’t remember, or if I’m angry they took it away from me.”

“You can be both, you know.”

“I suppose I can.” She let go of her legs and allowed them to rest flatly on the floor. “I’ll just have to find some way to deal with it.”

“You will.”

“Thank you.” For the first time, the Doctor looked straight into River’s eyes. “For listening.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“Still.” River’s comment, along with the way she stared intently at her knocked all the air from the Doctor’s lungs. “I’m just some stranger in your cell. You didn’t have to do that.”

“And let you be miserable all on your own?” In the dim light, River looked more ethereal than ever, and the Doctor had to look away before it all became too much. “I don’t think so.”

“Well,” she whispered as she leaned her head on River’s shoulder, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” With the hand that wasn’t embracing her, River ran her fingers through the Doctor’s hair. The Doctor closed her eyes and exhaled deeper than she had in weeks. Leaning against River felt comforting, especially after the few nights alone in the chilly cell. She nuzzled into the crook of her neck, taking one deep breath after another.

“River Song, you are—” Both she and River stiffened. River’s fingers froze on the top of her head. _Oh no_.

“What did you say?”

“I was going to—”

“How do you know my name?”

“You told me,” the Doctor said. “Remember, a few hours ago, we were sitting right here, and—”

“I told you my name was River, not River Song.”

“Are you sure?” the Doctor tried, perking her head up to throw a glance at River. “I could have sworn—”

“How do you know who I am?” Her voice was steely, and her grip on the Doctor’s arm steady.

“Maybe I overheard one of the guards say it?” The Doctor frowned. “I really can’t remember.”

“We’re in a Judoon prison, no you didn’t. Who are you?”

“Well, like I said, I’m—”

“And don’t expect me to believe your name is really Yaz.” River scowled. “Why are you here?”

“I really don’t know,” the Doctor sighed. “Trust me, I—”

“ _Trust you?_ ” She snorted and drilled her eyes into the Doctor. “Now why would I do that?”

“Please, River,” the Doctor started.

“No, don’t do that.” She pursed her lips and backed away from her. “Was any of what you said true? Or was it all to get inside my head? Because I’ll tell you what, you did a damn fine job with it.”

“No, nothing like that.” The Doctor banged her head against the wall and groaned. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I understand if you’re mad, but please don’t think I wanted to hurt you. I’ve told you nothing but the truth. I promise.” Then she scrunched her nose up. “Well, my name isn’t really Yaz.” Somehow, she didn’t think lying about her name would be as much of an issue for River as the rest.

“That’s just as good, you don’t look like a Yaz.” River’s voice was still strained, but she had lost most of her aggression. “I don’t trust you, but in any case I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it. We’re both stuck in here together anyway,” she said in a depleted voice. River Song, stuck in a prison? That wasn’t something you saw every day.

“I’m sure they’ll let us out at some point.”

“You’re in here for life, if you’ve forgotten.”

“Well then, til death do us part,” the Doctor said, regretting it a second later when River flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s fine,” she sighed.

“Memories?” the Doctor asked. River squinted at her.

“You’re not doing much to convince me you don’t know me.”

“Maybe it was a lucky guess.”

“Or maybe you should tell me who you are.”

“I’m just a traveller,” she said. “Who sometimes hears stories of other travellers, and remembers their names. Nothing more.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to,” the Doctor said with a knot in her throat. “Besides, I suspect you won’t be stuck with me for too long. If you can’t get out of here by yourself, I’m sure someone will turn up to help you out soon enough.” She didn’t remember rescuing River from this prison, but that could easily be explained away by the time streams. If she _had_ rescued River and herself, she wouldn’t be able to remember it.

“I’m not so sure,” River mumbled and the Doctor so desperately wanted to assure her that _of course she would come_. “What about you? Is there anyone who will show up to break you out of jail?”

Aside from the person sitting next to her, not too many. Well, there were a lot of people, but she doubted any of them knew where she was. Or that she was in trouble. Or even what she looked like now.

“Eventually,” she said. “Are you really sure there’s not someone who’ll come for you?”

“It’s hard to know you have to rescue someone you think is dead.”

_It’s hard to know you have to rescue someone you think is dead._

A cold flash, the sudden realization. A glimmer of hope, hidden in trenches of denial and realistic thoughts. _Someone you think is—_

“But… you’re not dead?”

“Very observant of you.”

“Then why would”—she bit her lip, only just catching the ‘I’ that wanted to escape—“they think you are?”

“Long story,” said River. “Bit too personal for the stranger in my cell who I don’t trust. No offense, dea—”

“No.” The Doctor grabbed River’s wrist, feeling the need to hold on to something. “Tell me.”

River easily snatched her hand back from the Doctor’s loose grip.

“ _No._ And I suggest you don’t try to make me because that will only end in more misery for you.”

“I could never make you do anything you don’t want to,” the Doctor said, catching River’s eyes. “Both ethically and practically.”

“Here you go again, talking like we know each other.”

“Tell me why they would think you’re dead, and I’ll tell you who I am. Possibly.” She held the stare between them, determined not to be the first to look away. That only resulted in neither of them averting their eyes.

“Because practically, I was. That enough information for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I died, and then I got better.”

“How?”

“Well now I just think you’re trying to get me to spill the secret of life. Sorry to disappoint, but no miracles here.”

“If being brought back from the dead isn’t a miracle, then what is it?”

“Exhausting,” River snarled. “And none of your business. Although technically I don’t think you could say I really was dead, since my consciousness never stopped existing.”

“What happened to it?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Why not.”

“You’re making excellent points, that’s for sure. Truly convincing,” River said as she got up to her feet and started making her way back to her bed.

“Please.” The Doctor followed her up, and at her voice River turned her head towards her.

“It was stored in a data cloud. That’s all you’ll get.” But that was enough. Because there it was. The confirmation the Doctor had hardly allowed herself to wish for.

“The Library,” she whispered.

“What did you say?” River stared at her quizzically. “How could you know that? Who are you?”

“Who do you think,” the Doctor mumbled. “Who do you think I am, River?”

It still wasn’t nearly light enough, but as River took a few steps towards her, the Doctor was sure River could make out her eyes.

“Doctor?”

“The one and only,” she said. “Well, I say only—” 

“What are you doing here?” River asked, with a frown that turned into a smirk as she eyed her up and down, “And what did you do to regenerate into _that_? Because I’m certainly not complaining…”

“I really don’t know,” the Doctor said, focusing on the first question because everything after that was bound to result in her being a flustering mess. “I was just in the Tardis, doing nothing, when suddenly I’m surrounded by Judoon! And the next second they’ve put me in here. Really, they’re rather rude. Have you noticed that? Wouldn’t even knock first!”

River let out a small laugh at her antics, and the Doctor couldn’t help but to fall quiet, treasuring the sound.

River laughed, shaking her head. “You are such an i—” Her eyes caught the Doctor’s wide eyed stare, and her voice died. “Sweetie…” Her brows furrowed, and the Doctor could practically see the realisation in her eyes when the truth of their previous topic of conversation hit her. “ _Oh, I’m going to fucking kill them_ ,” she hissed, eyes gleaming with anger. 

“Don’t worry,” the Doctor said as she looked away, her grin grim. “Th—”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” River’s voice still trembled with underlying rage. “They did god knows what to you, and you tell me _not to worry_? I’m sorry, but—”

“No”—the Doctor cut her off, looking up to face her stare—“I said you don’t have to worry about killing them… because they’re all dead already.”

River’s face fell.

“All of them?”

“Yeah.” The Doctor nodded and bit her lip. “All of them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor said again, staring past River and out the tiny window.

River closed in on the Doctor. Her breath lightly ruffled the Doctor’s hair. “What did they do to you?” she said.

“I already told you.” The Doctor tapped her fingers on her arm, avoiding her wife’s gaze. “It's really not that important.”

“Really?” River said, raising her eyebrows in exasperation. “Because it didn’t sound unimportant when you were telling me about it a few minutes ago. It sounded traumatic.”

“I’m fine.” The Doctor frantically blinked away the tears that threatened to form in her eyes. “I can’t even remember it. I told you, remember?”

“Yes.” River tilted her head. “I also remember you telling me that you’re still hurting from it.”

“Did I?” The Doctor laughed bitterly as she glared at the floor. “I suppose I did.” She took a deep breath. “You know how the Time Lords supposedly got the ability to regenerate from exposure to the time vortex?”

“I do,” River confirmed. “Like I did, right?”

“Right.” The Doctor forced a smile. “Well, apparently, that wasn’t quite true.”

“What do you mean?”

“They didn’t get it from the time vortex. I mean, they might have, in a round-about way, because that’s probably how… Well, anyway.”

“Where did they get it from then?” River frowned.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The Doctor gulped. The space between them was tense with the silence as River’s eyes searched the Doctor’s face. Her frown disappeared as her eyes widened.

“ _No_ ,” she whispered.

“Yup.”

“You?”

“It’s always me, isn’t it?” The Doctor’s laugh was flat and cynical.

“Sweetie…” River cupped her cheek, and the Doctor let out a small gasp at the feeling of her thumb running over her skin. “How long have you been here?” River asked.

“Not too long,” the Doctor said. “Seriously,” she added when River looked sceptical. “A few days, maybe? It hasn’t been decades or anything. I promise.”

River nodded, concern still painted on her face. “Any plans for our escape?”

The Doctor licked her lips, a smile seeping out. “I’ve been considering hacking the teleport. I think they have receivers hidden in the beds. We could use them to get into the system, and get us out of here.”

“Couldn’t have come up with a better plan myself,” River said and the Doctor moved to examine the bed but River gripped her arm. “Doctor.” She looked back at her, their eyes locking. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll be okay. _You_ will be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! It really means a lot to me<3
> 
> How is 2021 treating y'all so far? Personally, I've actually been feeling pretty good. I tried to start the year (or really end last year since I did it the day before New Years Eve) by bleaching and cutting my hair to match 13's. It... did not turn out amazing. I've kind of started to really like it though, so I might not try to fix it and make it actually look like hers?


End file.
